


Strippers...

by orphan_account



Series: Look I couldn't leave them be. [2]
Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Angst., But not too bad yet..., Hospitals..., I guess..., Kinda..., M/M, Referenced Captivity, Self Harm, Sequel, Stripper!Virgil, Strippers, Suicide Attempt, hospitilization, referenced abuse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-11
Updated: 2018-11-24
Packaged: 2019-08-22 00:39:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,215
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16587395
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Stripper Virgil.Angst. Thats about all you get.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So I was spurred from the sad ending of Cross Country Hell and decided to add a Stripper!Virgil cause I can and I liked the idea, so here it is. I'm not sure what it will turn into, but basically. Logan and Patton are still together, and Virgil and Roman aren't, as was set up in the ending.  
> Five years from the first fic, and Virgil has taken up being a stripper. Starts with angst, probably will continue to be angst. I make few apologies. But so here it is.

“You killed it out there V…” Another dancer gives him a good natured push to the shoulder and Virgil doesn’t respond, still scraping the glitter off his skin. Only after his skin is raw does he acknowledge the money tucked in the crevices of his clothes- if they could hardly be called that anymore, they left nothing to the imagination.

Virgil counts silently as he thumbs through the dollars, tallying up what he had made. And he quickly realized that the coworker had been right, he had made some of his best money tonight. Rolling, Virgil grabs his sweats and tugs them on, the sweaty ones now sitting in his mouth as he fumbles to get the fabric up. Next is a t-shirt, red.

“Knock it off dumbass…” He grumbles to himself words, muffled through the cash, as his heart makes a small pinch as he registers that not only was it a red shirt, it was  _ his  _ red shirt. It long since had lost the smell. In the beginning Virgil had worn it and sobbed into his pillows. Now he told himself it was only a shirt. Only a shirt. Only a shirt.

He grabs his bag and shoves the money inside, scowling when he looks up to see another coworker watching him, “What?”

“You’re talking to yourself…”

“So?”

The man's eyebrow quirks softly at Virgil and he rolls his eyes, leaving the warm room and making it out to the cold air outside. It was only after several steps did he realize that it was actually snowing, the flakes drifting lazily and blocking out the white noise that often permeated the air.

Goosebumps are just barely starting to prickle Virgil's skin when he pushes the key into the door of his apartment, stalking in and shutting it behind him. He glances at the stove, it was nearly 4:30, he had been late out tonight as well.

The one downside of the job, he now had to actually exist in his apartment, one of his least favorite places to be. He sulks through to the bathroom, tossing the tshirt into the laundry, as if the fabric were suddenly burning him. He stares at it, his mind racing as it nearly seemed to talk to him. It had  _ his _ voice as well. 

“You were the one that ended things… You did this… Don’t blame me…”

“Shut up!” Virgil snaps, and it takes a moment to register that no one had been speaking, and he indeed had just shouted at a shirt. It had been so long since the garment had been a bother, why did it now seem to torture him?

Virgil shuts the bathroom door harshly and heads to his room, only once he sees the calendar does he understand. He had been ignoring this day for weeks, hoping he could distract himself. But now, with nothing to stop him, he saw exactly what day it was.

It had been 5 years. 5 years since Virgil had escaped. Since he had sobbed and held onto  _ him _ . His lip trembles traitorously and he doesn’t allow it time to decide, he rushes back to the bathroom, grabbing the sleep aid that sat on the counter. Taking several deep swallows, the tears burn his eyes as the liquid warms its way down. He just moves to bed, the tears pressing down his cheeks traitorously. But the medicine works itself quickly, and he has drifted into a sleep before his mind can wallow in the misery.

 

Virgil sits on one of the plastic wrapped chairs, his tongue sticking out as he focuses on his eyeshadow, smudging it expertly across the bottoms of his eyes. His eyes focused intently that he doesn’t register the person sitting in front of him until they speak.

“Virg…”

Virgil jumps and drops the hand mirror, staring to the voice in a rush of emotions. There, sits Patton. Who looks so similar to the last version he had seen, still wearing glasses and light blue. The only proof that the other had aged were a few gray strands that worked through his hair.

“How did you-”

“Learn you were here?” Patton finishes and he nods, unsure how he should feel at the unexpected guest sat across from him. 

“Well, surely you know what today is…” Patton started, looking at Virgil quietly. 

“The 8th.” Virgil snips back quickly, frowning at his old friend.

“It is the five year anniversary of escaping the torture we all endured… And despite you trying to cut us all out we want to talk… He wants to talk.”

“I don’t know what you’re speaking about.”

“Virgil, I know you feel the sam-”

“You know nothing!” Virgil's emotions push to the surface again as they do so quickly lately, “You don’t know me Patton. I ended that part of my life and moved on. He should to!”

“You’re lying.”

Patton could always spot Virgil's lies, but this only sparks Virgil's anger more, Patton was saying words he craved to hear, but that would mean dealing with things he had already buried. He was pushing them down, and here Patton sat, trying to drag them back.

“Get out! I made my choice! Get out of here! Quit making me a pity case!” Virgil isn’t sure when he stood, or how loud his voice had actually gotten, but he couldn’t deal with Patton at the moment, so he left. Shoving away from the table and moving backstage. He ignored Patton speaking, he didn’t have time to pay attention to what the other was saying. He had done what was best for Roman, it had hurt like hell but it was best. 

 

.

 

By the time he is ready to begin, he has managed to move past the conversation with Patton. He is once again coated in glitter, his hair and makeup dragged into cooperation and he checked his clothes one last time, before moving on stage. 

The cheers were drowned out in his own mental shouts, as he moved in practiced ease to the pole. His eyes closed as he worked thoughtfully, carefully. He only tuned into the noise to know how to get the most out of his audience.

Virgil slowly saunters to the stairs, grabbing a scarf and starting to playfully wander the crowd. He moves in time to the music until he picks the lucky one. Lowering himself onto the strangers lap, he wraps the scarf behind the stranger, finally looking at the face of the person he chose.

His lines stick in his throat as he looks into the eyes, of none other than his ex. 

Roman.

Everything froze, Virgil's charm and poise melted as he stared, mouth slightly open as he stared at Roman. While his body refused to move, his mind raced as fast as possible to go over the options, go over what was happening. 

First Patton, and now Roman. Or was Roman here because of Patton? The other way? No matter what had made this happen, even by sheer luck, it didn’t change the fact that Virgil was sat on Romans lap, in a crowded bar, in the middle of a performance. 

“Virgil…”

Roman speaking is what breaks him, Virgil pushing off him and stumbling backstage again, his hands trembling. Roman had recognized him, Roman had come to see him on purpose. His mind spins as he tries to grasp onto anything to calm him down.

“Someones here to see you…”

Virgil doesn’t respond quick enough, spinning to come once again, face to face with Roman. 

“Virgil please…”

“No.”

“Virgil…”

“Don’t!” 

Suddenly Roman has his hands, pulling him to look at him, tears brimming in his eyes, “Virgil please I still love you…”

“You shouldn’t.”

Roman doesn’t allow Virgil to tug his hands free, still staring at the others face. Virgil tries everything to avoid looking into the glistening blue eyes


	2. Chapter 2

Virgil could feel all of his control seeping away as he avoids looking at the owner of the hands, so warmly pressed against his own. The man he had locked out, who he had tried everything to get over, was here. 

Virgil wasn’t sure what emotion he thought he should be feeling, but it was somehow just that. Guilt, confusion, anger, fear, love, everything burned in him, demanding his attention. He had spent the last five years trying to move past what he did, what pain he caused Roman. The pain he had caused all of them.

He had spent the last 5 years locked away from all three. Ignoring calls, ignoring them. He had cut himself off from everyone if he was honest, the closest he had to human interaction he had had over the past few years was the various one night stands and his coworkers. 

Roman squeezes his hands tighter before suddenly releasing them as his phone starts to buzz. He pulls the device from his pocket, looking down as well, to see Patton on Caller ID.

“Pat?” Roman asks, as he puts the phone to his ear. The closeness between the two and the volume Patton seemed to be frantic on the other end.

“Its Lo!” Patton wails, and Virgil is definitely kind of surprised that he can hear Patton so clearly.

“Lo?”

“Hospital! Lo! Hospital! Mountain Valley please!” Patton is in tears on the other end, and Roman looks at Virgil, afraid. 

Virgil had no desire to go return to a hospital, but Patton seemed so desperate…

“We’ll be there.” Roman answers, and he looks at Virgil as he hangs up.

“We?” Virgil asks, wondering if he should say no to going along. Patton had only called Roman.

“Yes, come on.” Roman says, grabbing Virgil's hand as he pulls them out to the front. It isn’t long before Roman has signalled down a cab and is climbing in. 

“Mountain Valley Hospital Please....” Roman pants, scooting over so that  Virgil can join him. 

The drive passes in silence, the 10 minutes stretching at an agonizingly slow rate. Virgil was certain he may turn 42 before the time they arrived.

“You… You never really found out about Logan did you…?” Roman asks, looking over at Virgil. 

Virgil shakes his head, looking at Roman curiously.

“Ever since we escaped… He’s been having a really hard time with… self harm… He’s relapsed several times… And with Patton so frantic… I’m worried that Logan…” Roman trails off and Virgil nods, his stomach twisting in knots. 

He had been silly to think he had been the only one who went through some serious mental traumas after. 

As soon as they arrive, Roman is dialing Patton while he hurriedly pays the taxi driver. Leaving Virgil to wait anxiously.

“Pat what room-!” Roman gasps as soon as Patton answers, Virgil misses the answer, but Roman nods, hanging up and grabbing Virgil's hand. He tugs the other inside, and both move quickly through the hospital waiting room. 

Only after a dirty look from the receptionist does Virgil realize he’s still in his work clothes. Mostly consisting of shorts and an ungodly amount of glitter. Roman catches the red tint on Virgil's cheeks and tugs off his jacket, handing it over quietly to Virgil as they get signed in. 

Another minute passes while they double check the room location and soon both boys are hurrying down the hallways and turns to find the other two. 

As they get closer, they round a corner, and see Patton, out in the hall, crying. The boy is on the floor, his arms around his knees as he cries unashamed.

“Pat!” Roman moves quickly, getting the others attention.

“Roman!” Patton moves to his feet and Roman catches him in a hug, allowing the smaller figure to cry into his arms.

“Pat I’m sorry…” Virgil whispers, and Patton looks up, his eyes widening as he sees Virgil. He breaks from Roman, catching Virgil in a somehow tighter hug than he’d clung to Roman.

“What happened…?” Roman whispers, and Patton manages to break himself away, taking several heavy breaths, before he opens the door. 

A very pale Logan lays on the hospital bed, all kinds of machines around him. His heart rate monitor pips softly. Bandages are curled around his arms, and Virgil's stomach twists. Somehow, it was so similar to 5 years ago, where they’d all been pinned into their own hospital rooms, miserably relieved to be free.

“He- he hasn’t woken y-yet… But we… he… We don’t know… If it was i-intentional… Like a s-suicide… Or it just w-went too far…” Patton hiccups, tears still streaming down his face.

“I’m so sorry Patton…” Virgil whispers, tugging the other into a hug again. Patton dissolves into Virgil's hug, trembling against him.

They eventually all find seats, and Patton gathers himself enough to stop crying, sniffling between the two. 

“I see Roman visited…” He murmurs after a while, Virgil frowns and nods.

“I suppose you had something to do with it…”

“I did... “ Patton sighs, “But Virgil… You two really need to talk....”

“Not now.” Virgil interrupts, closing his eyes. 

None of them argue it any further, Virgil swears he can hear Romans eyes burning a hole in his skin as he stares at him but he can’t get himself to acknowledge him at the moment. So they wait, tensely, for Logan to wake up.


End file.
